


Reunion

by Lambda_Complex



Category: Half-Life
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Idk what to tag this as, Insecurity, M/M, Pining, Reunions, they're just happy to see eachother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:13:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23117542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lambda_Complex/pseuds/Lambda_Complex
Summary: Barney's close to giving up- He's been part of Civil Protection for years now, and those years of guilt are starting to catch up with him. However, a few pixels on a monitor and a long-overdue visit from an old colleague may be what he needs to keep going.
Relationships: Barney Calhoun/Gordon Freeman, Freehoun
Comments: 4
Kudos: 247





	Reunion

The first slivers of morning light crept through the boarded windows of a small government-appointed apartment- the standard for City 17 residents. The room was small- too small for anyone to humanely stay in. Yet there he lay- sheets strewn about the mattress and limbs strewn even further. The boards’ placement meant the early morning rays struck the sleeping figure’s features rather abruptly, forcing him awake- quite a feat after yet another restless night. Barney brought a hand to his face, forcefully rubbing the grit from his eyes as well as the previous night’s terrors. He’d grown used to the recurring nightmares by this point, but it didn’t exactly make them much easier to deal with. He hauled himself upright, shading his face from the light.

The sunlight was much less blinding from this position- he’d always intended to move the bed around in his cramped little corner of City 17 to avoid the abrupt wake-up call, but had never really gotten around to it. Maybe it was due to timing. Or laziness. Either way, he’d wake up every morning intending to finally do so, only to return at night with barely enough energy to haul _himself_ around the room- let alone furniture.

He’d long-since forgotten about checking his clock- the batteries had run out months ago. He knew it’d just stay stuck there, reading 9:13 for the rest of time- staring down at him every time he left for work _. If you could even call it work_. Barney finally opened his eyes to the dimly lit apartment, glaring over at the rusted office chair that sat solitary in the opposite corner. His heavy, almost oppressive uniform lay over the back of the chair, the lifeless mask glaring back at him- taunting him with prospects of rewards for a hard day’s work. Of course, the ‘work’ that would entail would almost certainly involve acts that went against every fibre of the ex-guard’s being. Barney pushed the thought to the back of his head, taking a shaky breath and pulling himself to his feet. He had more important things to think about.

The uniform felt all-too familiar to Barney as he slipped it over his shoulders. He had trouble remembering just how long he’d been working with Civil Protection at this point- the days just seemed to blend together after a while. The weight of the padded armor on his torso would’ve felt almost comforting to him, if not for its implications. Perhaps he was growing too accustomed to his role. Once his gear was fastened and ready, Barney slotted his helmet into place and stretched, taking another calming breath before making his way downstairs.

He’d much rather stay at the base, like the other resistance members had been for so long. Like _he_ had been a tone point. Granted, the communal rooms were a lot more crowded there, but at least he’d have some kind of human contact. Lord knows he didn’t get it from the other CP officers he had to work alongside. However, his position as the resistance’s intelligence agent meant he had to stay within the confines of City 17. The combine had to have him on-file if they were going to believe a word of his cover story- besides, he couldn’t risk having to sneak in and out of the city every time he wanted to go for a nap.

His commute to the station was mostly uneventful- the occasional raid could be heard nearby. Barney thought back to just a few nights ago, where some of his neighbours had been raided in the night. The smashing of windows and furniture being thrown about had kept him up that night. It’s funny- he never even thought to ask their name in their time staying there. He supposed that’s just how things were in the city now, don’t ask, don’t tell. He certainly didn’t want to be suspected of colluding with other citizens- he’d already risked his position in the first few months by trying to aid others in his apartment block out of the city.

Perhaps that’s why he’d noticed the other officers giving him sidewards glances every now and then- not to mention the sudden influx of ‘routine checks’ and higher ranking officers hanging around his station lately. He knew they’d caught on to his growing reluctance to perform his duties. If he kept going like this they’d be down his throat in no time and there’d be no way he could get even a message back to Kleiner, let alone a chance to leave and check up on him. Today was another one of those days- stuck on ‘questioning’ duty, surrounded by high-ranking officers that wouldn’t hesitate to find any excuse to beat down his door and have _him_ in the chair. He’d taken way too many chances in recent weeks with returning information to the resistance, so any slip-up from now on could cost them the whole operation.

Barney approached the station’s back entrance, inputting his login at the terminal to unlock the black, metal blast doors. Cameras followed his movements down the hallway, whirring gently with their motion. Years of dealing with the situation and he _still_ hadn’t gotten comfortable being watched like that, every second of every day.

Well, it was only bound to get worse from here on out.

Most of the morning passed by normally- citizen after citizen would be thrown into his office, only to meet an unfair trial and subsequent conviction. The majority of those that got sent to him had been completely innocent- Barney would occasionally be able to make up a reason to excuse them and let them continue on, but that would only work for so long. He couldn’t risk letting the higher-ups know he was being lenient, so the occasional unfortunate soul would have to face the blunt end of his stunstick before they could be released. Even then, some weren’t as lucky…

He’d lost count of how many had died on his behalf- by his hand, even. He kept trying to convince himself it was _‘all for the greater good_ ’ and _‘necessary to the cause’_ , but even he knew how much bullshit that was. He just hoped _somehow_ they’d make a breakthrough. He hoped and prayed that someone, _somewhere_ would finally make the first move and let him get out of this godforsaken place.

It seemed almost poetic to Barney, in retrospect, that this just happened to be the day that that was _exactly_ what was to come. That very opportunity was dropped quite directly in his lap when he finally brought himself away from his most recent ‘client’ and went back to monitoring the entrance cameras. The officer he’d been assigned to partner with for the day had left to claim his rations, heading to the off-shoot room from their station and leaving Barney alone. He removed his helmet, taking in a breath of fresh air- _well_ , about as fresh as you can get in an old train station back room.

Nothing seemed particularly off at first- just the same steady stream of civilians filtering through the entrance. That was until one specific figure caught his eye. To the regular onlooker nothing would have seemed out of place, however his time spent borderline studying those that come through the station meant Barney’s attention was immediately caught by a man at the back of the station. He would have seemed incredibly normal, if not for the uncertainty in his body language and seemingly directionless wandering of the station floor. He approached a number of other commuters on his way through the station, which is what caused Barney to immediately clock him as unusual. You wouldn’t even dare to _look_ at another citizen unless you wanted to be suspect of collusion.

His face was hard to make out- the monochrome blue of the camera monitors left a lot to be desired and meant he couldn’t get a good look. He would’ve been almost indistinguishable from the rest of the population, however one thing Barney noticed made his heart leap up into his throat.

“It can’t be… _surely_?” Barney muttered under his breath. Eyebrows furrowed and gaze firmly locked on his monitor, he tapped away at the keys at his disposal, trying desperately to get a better visual on him. His camera reach only got as far as the timetables, but as the figure drew closer, so did Barney’s growing sense of hope.

Although he looked incredibly average from a distance, and even though Barney’s view was _infuriatingly_ limited, it was impossible to miss that unmistakable goatee and pair of crooked glasses.

“Mother _fucker!_ ” He breathed, his face visibly relaxing into a look of utter disbelief. After all these years… After everything that had happened and the miles Barney and the other Black Mesa survivors must have travelled, _Gordon had found his way back to him._

Barney’s hope was short-lived, however, as he noticed the clueless physicist wandering aimlessly towards his gate. One of the officers stopped Gordon in his tracks and looked him up and down. Despite trying to patch into the camera’s mic, Barney couldn’t get audio feed from the feed. Still, he knew exactly what was about to happen.

“No… No no no nononono…!” He stammered, hastily hammering in inputs into his console to unlock the door to the hallway. “You’re in hot goddamn water this time, bud…” Barney breathed, slotting his mask back into place. If he let the officers redirect him onto that train, that’d be the last anyone would hear of him. Barney wasn’t familiar with the particulars of what went on at Nova Prospekt but he’d heard mentions, and _none_ of them good.

He couldn’t let that happen. Not after 20 years of wondering- _dreading_ the fact that his best and, let’s face it, only _real_ friend could be dead. The last he’d seen of Gordon was when he was being dragged off to be executed by the H.E.C.U marines. After the years they’d spent together, Barney had abandoned him for the sake of his own survival. He’d left him once, and he _wasn’t_ about to do it again.

As Gordon entered the airlock-like space outside his hallway, Barney hit the alarm. They usually reserved it for citizens spotted with potential weapons or contraband, and this could very well risk having Gordon taken in by another unoccupied officer, but he had to take the chance. Taking care to look as nonchalant as possible leaving his room, he speedwalked to the end of the hallway. He had to restrain himself from throwing the door open and immediately engulfing the physicist in a long overdue embrace- instead swinging the door open and unholstering his baton. If he was going to make this work, he had to make it convincing.

Barney pointed his baton threateningly at Gordon, who returned the favor with a look of absolute confusion and fear. That look alone made Barney’s stomach drop. He looked so out of place- not only in the station, but in the world itself. He seemingly hadn’t aged a day since the last time they’d seen each other, and Barney silently wished he could say the same for himself. His civvies barely fit him, hanging off of his ungodly tall frame in a particularly unflattering manner. Poor guy looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.

Barney ordered Gordon to follow him into the hallway and he reluctantly obliged, unable to see any other way out of the situation. The walk to the back room was silent, although Barney hardly expected anything else. It was then that he realised just how much he genuinely missed Gordon’s voice. Gordon was never particularly talkative during their time at Black Mesa- often preferring sign to actual speech. Still, he’d drop a word or two every now and again when he absolutely needed to. It was a pleasing sound, no doubt about it- fairly low, but incredibly warm and comforting. _God knows_ he needed something like that right about now.

He knocked heavily on the end door, knowing his partner was probably alerted to the alarm and back in the room to see what was going on. The door creaked open, and Barney turned to the lanky man following behind him like a lost dog.

“Get in.” He demanded, motioning for Gordon to enter the room. Barney followed suit, sparing a careful glance to see if he was alright before turning his attention to the officer.

“Need any help with this one?” They asked, their voice masked by the scratchy vocoder embedded in their suits. Barney was glad the lenses in these masks were opaque, as the glare he shot at the officer could’ve burnt a hole through him. He felt sick to his stomach- he usually didn’t think twice about that kind of question, but the fact that the ‘this one’ they were referring to was Gordon brought back the reality of what that ‘help’ would actually entail.

Barney calmed himself, trying to refrain from clenching his teeth _too_ tightly.   
“No, I’m good.” His voice was clearly tense but that seemed to work in his favor, as the officer nodded and stepped out of the room. He wasn’t in the clear just yet, however- they still had the cameras to play for. As bad as it felt treating Gordon this coldly on their first meeting in 20 years, his head was already on the hypothetical, and possibly even literal, chopping block. Even so, seeing Gordon that genuinely scared shook Barney to his core- and the worst part was _he_ was the reason for that look. And it wasn’t that he exactly blamed him for it, either.

Once the cameras were turned off and the door locked, Barney stopped to take a breather. He hesitated in removing his mask- what would Gordon think of him, working for the Combine? He’d surely experienced the atrocities Civil Protection had committed- how could he look him in the eye after _willfully_ participating in that? He clenched his fist as he rose it to his mask, willing himself to just _do it for him. Just help him get out. That’s all you need to do. He won’t forgive me. But I have to. For him._

Barney turned to face Gordon, who was still standing stock still by the entrance- exactly where he’d left him. He hadn’t moved a muscle- probably out of fear. Barney didn’t blame him. With a final calming breath, Barney removed his helmet and smiled at Gordon- the same smile he’d have given him before they’d rush off to unlock Kleiner’s lab, or when he’d told a particularly sly joke.

“About that beer I owed ya.” He announced, trying desperately to mask his crushing fear of rejection and apprehension with humor. He’d gotten all too used to doing so the past few years…

Gordon’s face stayed stuck in the same bewildered and slightly terrified expression. Barney’s heart sunk.  
“It’s me, Gordon-” it was silent for a few seconds before recognition registered on Gordon’s face. He visibly relaxed a little, taking an apprehensive step toward the ex-guard. Tears began to threaten the back of his eyes. He should’ve said something more- told him how much he’d missed him. How thankful he was that he was alive. _How sorry he was-_

_“...Barney?”_

The guard’s voice caught in his throat. Gordon’s voice was… _different_ . It was still that slow, smooth tone he’d always loved, but something seemed off. The few times Gordon had spoken were clear- confident. But this was different- he seemed timid, like he was afraid that his words would suddenly shatter the room around them. Most of all, he sounded _tired_.

In fact, now that he was able to see Gordon’s face for the first time without the lens of a helmet or monitor, Barney got to actually study his face- realising just how tired he _actually_ looked. His normally bright emerald eyes were hazy and unfocused, dark circles forming around them. In all honesty, he looked like hell. His face and hands were visibly scarred and bruised- god knows what the rest of his body looked like. But it was him- completely, undeniably _him_.

Barney caved, unable to keep up his charade much longer- He never was good at hiding from Gordon. He threw himself towards the taller man, grabbing hold of him and knocking his glasses slightly- losing himself in Gordon’s shoulder. His hands shook violently, clutching onto the back of Gordon’s overshirt as he pulled him into the embrace. Gordon hesitated for a moment, correcting the angle of his glasses before gently placing his hands on Barney’s back. The warmth was comforting, and Barney took a slow, shaky breath to calm himself.

“I missed ya, buddy.” he said, pulling back and placing a firm hand on Gordon’s shoulder. There was so much more he wanted to say in that moment, but he knew it’d be cut short soon enough. Tears threatened to fall but he forced them back. Barney let his hand fall to his side as he studied Gordon further.

Taking another look at Gordon’s face only brought up just how similar he looked to their time in Black Mesa. There were some noticeable differences, of course- The scars and unclear expression to start, as well as the haircut. But other than that he looked functionally identical to how he had that morning back at the facility. Barney was suddenly acutely aware of just how _little_ that applied to himself. He was just as battered and bruised as Gordon, perhaps even moreso. His hair had started to grey and his joints just weren’t cutting it as well as they used to. The realisation had brought on a sudden, overwhelming feeling of self-consciousness.

Barney was snapped out of his stupor by the feeling of a large, warm hand placed on his shoulder. It moved up to touch the side of his face as Gordon took him in- his thumb gently passing over the fine wrinkles by his eyes and face clearly pulled into a look of confusion and concern.  
“The years ‘aint _exactly_ been kind to me.” Barney joked, pulling his signature smirk- although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Gordon’s gaze eventually reached his, and his previous look melted into one of recognition and solemn relief. He smiled, his thumb gently stroking Barney’s face. He hesitated, before pulling Barney in by the neck for a warm, genuine hug.

Barney’s heart damn near stopped- Gordon was never one for all the ‘touchy-feely’ stuff. Physical affection was _not_ his forte. Barney laughed- the first genuine laugh he’d had in god-knows how long.   
“Alright, alright- I get it.” As they pulled away, Barney gave Gordon a pat on the shoulder and smiled genuinely. As much as he wanted to stay with Gordon for just that little bit longer, Barney knew the other officers would be eager to beat down his door if he didn’t send Gordon off anytime soon.   
“Listen, I can’t take too long or they’ll get suspicious- I’m _way behind_ on my beating quota.” He joked, regretting mentioning the particulars of his job the minute he saw Gordon’s face fall back into its look of confusion. He’d hoped distracting Gordon with Kleiner’s message would alleviate some of the guilt, and for the most part it did. It wasn’t long before they heard heavy beating on the metal cell door, however- Barney’s assigned partner, no doubt.

After a rushed explanation of the route to Kleiner’s lab, Barney took one last moment to take in the long overdue sight of the physicist. He hesitated at the door, willing himself to say _something_ more, apologise for leaving him, promising he’d never do it again-

He couldn’t bring himself to do it. The two made eye contact and one last sombre look, Barney sent him on his way.  
“Good luck out there, buddy. You’re gonna need it.”

It was funny- Before Gordon had arrived, it seemed as though the resistance was becoming more and more futile by every passing day, but alongside the return of rogue physicist came the overwhelming, impending feeling that he may not have to return to his dark, suffocating corner of the city for much longer.


End file.
